The SoCalled Village Whore
by Sesshomaru-Sara
Summary: So what are you supposed to do when you love your brother, a mass murderer? Put up with the torment, of course![ItaSasu Uchihacest MM Yaoi Sasuke POV Oneshot]


"You little whore!"

Something heavy and too solid for my liking nailed me in the head. My head tilted to the side on reflex, but my stoic look remained so. I looked over at the one who had attacked me, and found it to be a young man, only a few years older than myself, around...17 or so. I blinked at him, and he panted. He looked so nervous. I almost thought he was going to run away from my bloody gaze. And I wouldn't have been the least surprised. I began to walk away, my head bleeding immensely.

Pain is pleasure when you're masochistic.

Since Itachi had come back to Konoha and started living with me, no one has dared to seek him out. Even being an S-Ranking missing ninja, no one had the guts to arrest him, none the less enough strength. He's killed thousands of people, and no one wants to get him aggravated enough to kill everyone in Konoha-Gakure.

And since Itachi came back, no one has looked me in the eye. Not even Sakura.

It's because he told everyone.

He told all of Konoha...

...That I loved him.

He shouted it to the heavens, a very un-Itachi like thing to do. But he did anyway, with me standing right behind him. All of Konoha stopped what they were doing to look up at the shadowy man yelling the words:

**SASUKE LOVES ME!**

I punched him, and he just laughed. And I did it over and over again, until tears leaked from my big eyes. He didn't stop laughing at me, not even when I broke down sobbing on his lap.

I'm the village's incestuous gay man-whore of a ninja.

I walked down the streets, glancing at the shop vendors and the citizens and the off-duty ninjas, and so forth. Every time, my eyes met theirs, they would look away or pull something over their faces to get away.

I finally realized how Naruto felt.

Everyday he would put up with this. For 14 years, he's had every kind of horrific treatment imaginable, and no one has seemed to stop it yet. Not even when he has shown countless times that he's one of the best ninja in the village, not even when he has shown so much kindness to the villagers.

He was the only one who has looked at me since that day.

He smiles, he brags, and he acts childish to me like he always had before.

And I think it's because he loves me.

He'd never be one to admit it, but I can see it in his eyes. And when I turn away, and he thinks I'm not looking,

He frowns.

He knows he can't have me.

I walked home solemnly. The whispers were ignored, and the ignoring was, well, ignored too. When I reached my front porch, I chucked my shoes off to the side and slid the door open.

"Tadaima," I whispered. He was lying on his stomach in front of the television, munching slowly on sesame cookies. I questioned myself if he was really my brother, and not a child in my brother's clothing. He had been so different since he had come back, I couldn't even trust him.

"Oy! What are you...?" He stopped as he glanced over to see the blood pooling under my feet. He ate the cookie he was munching quickly, sitting up.

"...Come 'ere," he called out. I shook my head, the blood spraying over the floor.

"I'm fine. Just leave me alone..."

"Shut the fuck up and come here."

I stared up at him with only one eye, since the other was temporarily blinded with the crimson body fluid still flowing down my face. I turned to walk to my room without complying, but he had somehow crossed the room to me and put me in a frighteningly tight headlock. I gasped, clawing at his arms and kicking my feet, splattering more blood all over everything in a 4 foot radius.

"Let go!" I cried out, kicking hysterically and whimpering helplessly as he tightened his hold. I wasn't going to cry. No, I wouldn't cry. I promised myself I wouldn't, but it didn't help. I have the instant reflex to cry, and so it was let loose.

I stopped struggling as I began to cry, the silent tears coming forth. A sob accidentally escaped my mouth, and Itachi softened reasonably. Turning me to face him, he held me tightly, carrying me to the bathroom and setting me on the bleached counter. As he rummaged through the cabinets, I rubbed at my eyes, sniffing the tears away. He came back with a wet washcloth and began scrubbing the blood from my neck. I gulped, and he felt the movement clearly, running his slender fingers over the lump in my throat. I tilted my head upwards to relieve the pressure, but that only left him more room to stroke and feel my pale white skin. I whimpered, and he stopped on cue. Rubbing away the blood on my cheek, I hissed in pain as the rough cloth made my skin flushed and irritated. Getting the dried liquid off my face, I gasped as he poured a bucket of more than warm water over my head. Removing my shirt, he scrubbed the blood that was running down my chest. I placed my palm against his face, pushing him away, but he only removed it and pinned it to the counter. I was cold, wet, bleeding, and my brother was making me horny. I kicked at him, and he was forced to step a few feet away from me, my leg keeping the distance. I glared at him.

"I don't need you to do this." He pushed my leg down so he could press himself between my legs. I narrowed my eyes, but he brought a tender hand up to the horrific looking wound on the side of my forehead. I winced, clutching his shirt.

"...Who did this to you?" I looked up at him, blinking.

"...I don't know. Just some guy..."

"What did he look like?"

"He had long blonde hair, green eyes, and a scar on his neck...Wait...What are you going to do?"

"...Ohhh, nothing..." his hand removed itself from the injury and he proceeded to leave. I grabbed onto the hem of his shirt, stopping him immediately.

"Don't," I growled. He looked over me slowly, and I pulled his shirt to the point where he was only half an inch from my face. He smirked sadistically, and I shivered.

"Don't what?" he whispered. I scooted backwards, but he pulled me forward to crush my lips to his. Disconnecting quickly, I panted, and he returned the smirk to his face.

"Were they calling you whore again?"

"It's not fucking funny."

The bathroom was silent, and he knew he had crossed the line. He kissed my forehead, being careful of the bleeding hole in my head.

"...Didn't mean it to be." I looked away, crossing my arms.

"You did."

"Shut the fuck up," Itachi commanded in a joking tone of voice. I huffed.

"I'm not talking to you anymore."

"Then let it be so," he whispered before kissing me again and leaving me alone in the bathroom to wash the rest of my blood soaked body.

"Ni-san!" I shouted out to him. He didn't answer, but I knew he was listening.

"I love you, Ni-san!" I smiled to myself, kicking my feet childishly.

"...I know!" he called out from the hallway.

I smiled even wider, and I wish the Sharingan could see though walls.

That way, he could see how happy he makes me.


End file.
